


Father’s Day

by nimrod262



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Father's Day, Homosexuality, Hospitals, M/M, Nivanfield, One Shot, Reconciliation, Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 17:32:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7447951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nimrod262/pseuds/nimrod262
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Piers Nivans' father is rushed to hospital. They haven't been close for the past seven years, and there's a lot of awkward catching up to do. But it's Chris Redfield who comes to Piers' rescue and ends up doing all the explaining. Some fluff, angst and that wonderful Chris x Piers banter that oils the Nivanfield wheels...Oh, and a little bit of mystery!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Father’s Day

**Author's Note:**

> This short is set post 'Winter Bane’, so there are some spoilers, but nothing that hasn’t been signalled in other tales. It’s really a dialogue piece, always fun to write because you can develop your characterisations. It’s the first time Poppa Nivans has actually got to speak, so that’s something. But the central player as usual, remains Chris. He is, as Mom Nivans say’s, Piers’ rock! And that final scene! What is going on?

 

June 2017, Washington DC:

_Captain Piers Nivans, Director, B.S.A.A. N.A.B_

Piers Nivans looked curiously at the nameplate, it seemed to refer to someone else. He almost knocked as he entered the outer office in the building that rose high above Washington City. He half expected to see the bulky presence of Mike Lugano sat at the desk that faced the outer door and guarded the inner office beyond. Instead a fresh-faced young Corporal sat there behind a desk nameplate that said _Cpl T. Thomas B.S.A.A._ He quickly stood to attention and saluted as Piers entered.

"Good morning Sir, um, Captain, er, Director Sir."

Piers grinned. "At ease Tom. We're not on parade. I think we can dispense with the salutes, and as for the title, 'Captain' has always sounded just fine to me, I used to say it a lot myself once upon another lifetime. Here, take my stick will you please? Put it under the hat stand, thanks."

Piers limped through into his office, his left leg was still stiff from the bullet wound he'd received some months ago in Edonia, A bullet fired by his own brother, Adam. A thought never far away in Piers' mind every time the leg was painful. Like it was this particular morning.

Tom followed after him with the Director's appointments diary. "I wish you'd use the lift Captain, that leg needs more time to heal."

Piers rolled his eyes. "Don't fuss Tom, you're worse than Chris....and besides, climbing those stairs is the only damned exercise I get at work these days."

"Hmm, except for the gym evenings with Captain Redfield, no one's lasted a complete circuit with the two of you yet."

"Apart from you Tom." Piers grinned.

"Well Captain, I'm a soldier, there are standards to maintain."

"And so are Chris and I, don't let these long titles fool you."

"Yes, but..."

Piers raised an eyebrow and Tom stopped talking and bit his lip. Tom had never been afraid to speak his mind in front of his superior, it was one of the reasons Piers had chosen him as his aide. They had much the same discussion every morning, but they were both getting used to their new positions and Piers in particular was having trouble finding the right combination of approachability and gravitas. Chris had always made it look so easy on Alpha Team, but directing the N.A.B. wasn't like running an S.O.U. The concept of administering the North American Branch of the B.S.A.A. like a family didn't go down well with business men and politicians. For the time being, Piers was favouring gravitas, primarily to counter his age. It had been embarrassing for all concerned when he'd attended initial meetings with Chris and people had assumed the older man was the new Director, not the new Director of Operations.

Embarrassing for everyone except Chris that was. The war against bioterrorism had largely been won, but not completely. There were still sporadic outbreaks. However, without the constant strain of high-tempo operations, Chris had rediscovered his sense of humour when in public. Meetings resounded to the boom of 'Ha!' or, even worse, the almost deafening 'Ha, Ha, Ha!' Piers smiled to himself, Chris deserved it. But Piers wasn't as comfortable with his own new role. He was a soldier, playing politics was a whole new ballgame, even with Chris' help. He sighed deeply, 'Suck it up Piers' he told himself.

"So, Tom, what's on today's agenda?"

Tom opened the large diary. "Friday, June 16th. There's a UN finance briefing this afternoon, 14:00, we're hosting that. Then it's future resource and planning proposals at 16:00. I've booked the gym for 19:30."

"Booked it?"

"Well, I'm told resource and planning meetings often overrun, so I thought you'd want to secure a slot if you were late."

"You seem to be told a lot of things Tom, who's your source?"

"Mr Lugano, we often have a beer together on Fridays, so I might see him tonight with any luck. You won't believe some of the tales he tells me."

"Probably best if I don't know Tom. You're honoured though, Mike's not an easy man to get to know."

"I think he wants to help you Captain. Say's by helping me to take care of the admin, it leaves you free to concentrate on the big picture."

"Well you're doing fine so far, just remember what I said when we were on Bravo team, stay flexible and keep an open mind. Oh, and next time you meet up tell him thanks from me. Now, what's on this morning?"

"Yes Captain, well, this morning's pretty clear. I've got the agendas for this afternoon's meetings for you to read through, minutes of the last sessions. Oh, and Director Ops wants an urgent meeting at 09:30."

"Urgent? So why tell me that last?"

"Um, because he said it was urgent for coffee and donuts, and I didn't think that was sufficient grounds for urgency on my part."

"Have you ever stood between Captain Redfield and his morning donuts Corporal?"

"No Captain, but I have faced an angry Napad and it's J'avo handlers."

Piers looked Tom straight in the face, "Then my advice is to stick with the B.O.W.s Corporal. It's safer!"

************************

In fact Chris barrelled into the outer office at nine o'clock, the collar of his white shirt open, the blue service tie pulled down.

"Morning Tom, is the boss alone?"

"Yes Captain, he's reading minutes from past meetings. There's two more this afternoon. I'm sorry, the coffee's not ready yet, I wasn't expecting you so soon."

"Look, somethings come up, personal for the Director. I'll stand in for him this afternoon, just clear his diary for the next four days, five if you can make it, OK?"

"Sir?"

It's his father, he's just been taken into Bethesda, suspected heart attack, a bad one. Order his car round the front, I'll hold the fort whilst he's away."

"Sir, yes Sir,"

"Good lad Tom, I'll go through."

Piers looked up from the file and smiled. "Hi, you're early, hunger pangs?"

"No Piers, it's your Pa, he's in Bethesda, heart attack they think."

What! He's only 55! How is he? Wait, does Mom know?"

The Army's taking care of that. Sorry, that's all I know. Tom's clearing your diary, I'll deputise, and your car's waiting."

"Chris, it's been seven years since we last spoke properly, well, argued. I'm not sure...."

"Then you've got a lot of catching up to do babe." Chris smiled and gave him a hug. "Go on, get going, front-up and face forward. You're the Director B.S.A.A., not a 2nd Lieutenant still wet behind the ears."

"I'm also the disappointing son, and I'm gay. That's all he'll see, believe me."

"Hey, where's all that sniper self-confidence gone? Keep in touch, I'll come and pick you up this evening, say around seven. Now get!"

************************

Brigadier General Nivans lay in his bed in the ICU, he was conscious, though sedated. He'd lost count of the number of times he'd ordered the medical staff to 'Stop fussing!' during the morning; the sedation was not just for his own benefit. This is damned inconvenient he thought to himself. Not long in post, he already had his eyes on the next promotion. Major General would just about see his military career out. This heart attack was a minor setback. Like all setbacks in his life, it would to be fought and defeated. He did not, would not, countenance retreat or withdrawal, they were never options for his consideration.

He supposed the army's personnel machine would now be in operation, his next of kin informed. Probably tomorrow his wife would make the journey from their home, her home, in Carmel. He snorted, it had never been his home, he hadn't allowed himself to become attached to one place, it didn't do in the army. The noise attracted the attention of a nurse.

"Are you alright General? Any fresh pain?"

His look was sufficient answer, she busied herself elsewhere.

He continued his musings. His children, well with any luck they wouldn't visit. Hopefully he'd instilled a sufficient sense of duty in all of them. Lucy would most likely be taking yet more exams, Tim would be 'somewhere' on covert deployment, either the Baltic or the South China seas given the current political situation. As for Adam, God alone knew. Even his service contacts had failed to track down his middle son, assuming he was still alive.

Which left Piers. Apart from sporadic seasonal holidays, contact with his son over the last six years had been conducted largely at the end of a phone. Clipped, terse, focussed conversations. Brief, just like proper military communications. No time for pleasantries or idle chit-chat, he preferred it that way. In truth Piers made him feel uncomfortable, well rather his wife's attitude to his relationship with his eldest son made him feel uncomfortable. They'd always been alike, and their relationship was close. He didn't care to analyse his own feelings too deeply, but it bordered on resentment. Resentment that they had always been able to express their feelings, show their emotions, whilst he had never enjoyed that ability. So he hid his resentment, and his jealousy, behind a mask of authoritarian aloofness. Anything else would suggest weakness. He had not been brought up to show such failings; he had not wanted his eldest son to either.

And as for the homosexuality.....Oh yes, he knew, although neither his wife or Piers had ever said anything. Fellow officers in the army had talked about his son's open relationship with an older Captain in the B.S.A.A, no doubt laughing behind his back as soon as it was turned. It was common knowledge in Washington's military circles.....it was a source of embarrassment....it was disgusting. He ground his teeth and shuddered at the thought. His heart suffered a palpitation, and the alarms in the ICU immediately sounded. This time the nurse wouldn't take 'Go away!' for an answer.

The Senior Heart Surgeon decided to operate straight away, heart by-pass surgery. By the time Piers arrived his father was being prepped. Though not particularly complex, the operation could prove lengthy. Piers could stay. He could even view the surgery if he wished. He decided to stay, but declined the offer to watch. Piers had seen some unimaginably horrific things in his life, he had a flashback of Chris in the hands of Haos, coughing up blood, his body flopping like a rag doll's. His own C-virus mutation. The thought of witnessing deliberate, calculated surgery on his own father somehow seemed too terrible to bear without Chris by his side. And Chris Redfield had an abiding fear of hospitals.

He rang his mother. She seemed calm, unflustered. At least that was the impression she tried to give. But Piers knew it was just an act. Inside she would be in turmoil. They both kept their emotions pretty close to the surface. They were alike in so many ways, emotions, looks, the incisive manner.

"I'm not surprised Piers." she blustered. "Poppa's been building up to it for years, chasing those damned little stars. But how are you? Are you coping with the new job, and Chris, is he there with you? He's your rock son, you and he are so good for one another."

"Hmm, you have mentioned that once or twice Mom. Do you like to see grown men squirming with embarrassment?"

"Well, with your father away so much, I have to practice on someone dear, ha ha. And how's that leg? Are you taking it easy?"

"Oh Mom, I miss you and that laugh of yours. The job and the leg are both fine. Chris is holding the fort. I'm gonna' stay and see how the operation goes, but I'm not gonna' watch, ugh! I'll keep you updated throughout the day, OK?"

"Alright dear, I should be arriving around lunchtime.....let me see.....yes, landing 1 pm Washington time. I'd best get packing, I've an early start tomorrow."

"Alright Mom, either Chris or I will be there to meet you. There's a visiting relatives suite here at the hospital, I've booked that for you. You know how small our apartment is in town."

Yes dear, two peas is enough in that pod, especially when one's called Christopher! See you soon then, keep me posted."

"Bye Mom, I love you."

"I should think so too young man, ha, ha. Bye now son."

************************

The operation went well, though it had indeed taken longer than planned. However, his father would not be permitted visitors until the later the next morning. The surgeons wanted to assess the effectiveness of the surgery first. Piers had updated his Mom one last time, ordered flowers for her suite, blues and whites to remind her of the Californian sea, and then been driven back to the apartment. He still hadn't gotten over the luxury of a car and driver, but in the Washington traffic it was a godsend. He understood now why Dee had done so much reading in his car. The Driver escorted him personally all the way to the door, he was more than just a driver. Piers sometimes idly wondered who of the two of them would be the better in a fight, although he hoped it would never come to that. Not for the first time, Piers Nivans remained a legitimate target for some, his leg testified to that.

"Hi Ace, how's your Pa?" Chris met him with a hug and a cold beer, both were welcome.

"He's in post-op, awaiting tests once he's out of the anaesthetic. No visitors until late tomorrow morning. I didn't get a chance to speak to him at all today. To be honest I'm glad, I wasn't sure what to say anyway. It's not just the heart attack. So much has happened since we last spoke, so much has been left unsaid."

"You'll find the words Ace, you're good with them, better than I would be."

"Mom says you're my rock."

"A wise woman your ma, I like her." Chris laughed and put an arm around Piers. "Take a shower whilst I fix dinner. Pasta OK?"

"Mmm, nice, then an early bed I think."

Chris raised an eyebrow and smiled.

"Ooh, that sounds good."

"No, not tonight babe. Sorry, I'm beat and I need my sleep. Tomorrow's gonna' be a long day."

Chris imitated one of Piers pouts. "Aww, but cuddles, yes?"

"Bearfield! I know you. Just one cuddle, a long one, say eight hours?"

"Roger that Boss."

************************

They arrived at the hospital a little after 11 am, having stopped for coffee and donuts en route. "Comfort food, it's good for you." was Chris' excuse. "You know how much I hate hospitals. I need a morale boost, and so do you."

Piers rolled his eyes. "You need a new truck. Why did we come in this....this rust bucket?"

"Hey! She'll hear you. Gillian's very sensitive to insults."

"Gillian? Seriously? As in your predecessor? OMG, that's really sweet....and kinda' weird!"

"And this from a man who call's his El Camino 'Cristobal'. I call bull."

"Does Jill know?"

"No, and she's not going to Nivans! To be honest, she was called Gillian a long time before you came on the scene."

Piers looked at Chris open-mouthed. "You didn't?" Chris nodded. "What, on the back seat?" Chris grinned and nodded again. "Eeww! We've been there too....Jeez Bearfield. I hope you cleaned it before..." Chris shrugged. "Gah, I'm not hearing this."

"Pftt! It's comfy back there. And besides, no one will expect the Director B.S.A.A to be travelling around in Gillian. It's good cover. As your Director Ops, I have to think of these things when you're travelling incognito."

"Hmm, I'll explain that to Mom when I pick her up, she's probably expecting the staff car, not the 'stiff' car. Stiff, geddit?"

"You're nervous, aren't you Ace? About seeing your Pa."

"Yes, how'd you know?"

"Cos' you're making really bad jokes. Ha, ha, ha!"

************************

The General was still in the ICU. He sat bolt upright in the bed, propped up by several pillows. If he could have stood at attention, he probably would have. It was his way of showing defiance in the face of the enemy, in this case a coalition of his surgery and the medical team. Piers let out an audible gasp when he saw him. His father looked drawn, his skin grey, almost translucent. The General heard the noise and looked over towards Piers. A flicker of recognition and something else crossed his face. Annoyance, disappointment?

"Sir, how are you?"

The General looked beyond Piers at Chris, who had remained in the doorway. His eyes narrowed.

"I was expecting your mother."

"Mom will be here later. She lands at 13:00. I came to see you yesterday, as soon as I knew, but they wouldn't let you have visitors."

"You should have ascertained that before, I'm sure you had work to do."

"I kept Mom updated, throughout the day, whilst you were having surgery."

"Hmm, thank you. At least you still have a sense of duty." It was grudging praise.

The General kept his eyes focussed on Chris, he seemed to be weighing him up. Piers could feel the tension rising in the room. He swallowed hard.

"Forgive me Sir, this is Captain Christopher Redfield, my Director of Operations, my...." The General interrupted.

"Your what? Lover, boyfriend, life-partner?" he spat the words out sarcastically, and Chris automatically stiffened. "I know who he is, but not from your lips, or your mother's. No, I had to be told, by my fellow officers. You didn't have the guts to tell me yourself."

Chris put a hand on Piers' shoulder. "That's enough bullying General, you should show your son the respect he's due. That's not a request by the way."

"Chris, please, I expected this, I'm OK. It was never going to be easy.” Piers could feel himself reddening.  He was saved by the ringing of his cell.  It was his mother.

"Mom...you've landed already?.....A jet-stream?...yeh, that would do it. What? We're there now.....yes.....well, you'll see for your self shortly...OK, I will...I'm on my way." He put the phone back in his pocket. "Mom sends her love Sir, they landed early, I'll go and pick her up."

The General rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes. I gathered that Piers! Well off you go, don't keep your mother waiting. I'll finish my talk later."

"Sir." Piers and Chris turned to leave.

"You, Redfield! Stay!"

Piers looked at Chris. "Go on babe, I'll try and behave." He grinned and went back into the room, pulling up a chair by the bed.

"My friends call me Chris."

"Well I'll call you Captain Redfield, it is Captain isn't it? Not much of a rank at your age."

"I've always refused promotion General, and besides, the ranks of the B.S.A.A. don't exactly map onto those of the army. But you knew that already. That's a pretty cheap opening shot, I expected more from Piers' father."

"Drummed out of the Air Force, founder of a wannabe army. You know all about cheap Redfield, ask the trail of dead men you've left behind you."

Chris clenched his fists, but remained seated. He glared at the man. "I'll let you off those remarks General. I expect the medication has dulled your senses. But what's your real objective here? It's not me is it? Is it the homosexuality? Is it your oh so disappointing son? Or is it actually about you? The outstanding General Nivans, latest in a long line of military brass hats. The loss of face, the embarrassment. Or are you just pissed-off because you might not make two-stars now? Invalided out, a sad end to an illustrious career? You want cheap? I can do cheap without breaking a sweat. Or I can talk to you man to man and tell you the truth.....if you're prepared to listen. Make no mistake General, I've no respect for your rank other than professional courtesy. Any respect I show you is because you are Piers' father. I've absolutely no interest in the uniform, it's the man inside that counts in my book. So, cards on the table, let's start this conversation again shall we?"

"So it's true what they say about you Captain? That you've no respect for authority, continually bucking your superiors. Captain America, always right, always the hero. A destructive ego on the rampage. I just can't understand what my son sees in you Redfield. He was never brought up to be like that, he's a Nivans. Somehow you've perverted him, made him lose sight of generations of service to his country, his family name. You want cards on the table? You disgust me Redfield, and what you've done to my son." The General started to cough, the effort of speaking was taxing him. The lights and monitors in the ICU flickered as his heart rate and blood pressure rose.

"Here, drink this." said Chris, putting a beaker of water to the General's lips. "Easy now, slowly."

The man clutched at the beaker with shaking hands. "Thank you." he mumbled.

Chris smiled. "You're welcome. Let's build on that."

He took the proffered beaker and put it back down on the bedside cabinet. The General looked at him keenly, his eyes scanning Chris' face, searching for clues.

"You said something earlier about showing my son the respect due? What did you mean?"

"Let me tell you about the Piers Nivans I know General. I don't promise you and I will end up friends afterwards, but it may help you understand him better. And I think that's what we both want, yes?"

General Nivans nodded, he suddenly felt too tired to argue.

"Over seven years ago, a young Army Lieutenant came to my attention, I was looking for a sniper, the best I could get. We had been losing a lot of men in skirmishes and hand-to-hand combat with Zombies and B.O.W.s. I'd seen it before, on a smaller scale, in the Racoon City Police Department, and then later on in the S.T.A.R.S organisation, the forerunner of the B.S.A.A. We needed to improve our tactics. I'd been trained to fly aircraft, not fight a ground battle. So it took a while to formulate, and for me to be in a position to implement something. It involved having a sniper, or more accurately a marksman, guarding the combat team's six, taking out threats on their flanks and rear, advancing with them but always behind, operating alone. It was a lot to ask, and I needed to demonstrate it's effectiveness to my superiors, no questions asked. Luckily for me, and for all the other men whose lives he's saved since, the best sniper the Army had came on the market at the same time. Your son. He was looking for a cause, something where his unique skills would help people, the world, in the fight against bioterrorism. It was noble quest General, it led him to the B.S.A.A. and me."

"Yes, yes, I know all that." The General said irritably, "Throwing away a promising career for a boy's dream. Such a waste."

"No waste General, I've known very few junior officers who threw themselves into their work with as much professionalism and dedication as your eldest son. And even fewer who made it their sole purpose to support their commanding officer, because they believed that officer represented the best chance the B.S.A.A. had in achieving that cause, in fighting bioterrorism, in protecting innocent people's lives. That officer was me, I didn't ask for such selflessness, Piers gave it freely, because he believed it to be right."

"He never explained that to me."

"He tried General, only you wouldn't listen."

"I didn't want to Captain, I thought he was throwing everything away, to spite me."

Chris shook his head, in sorrow more than anger, then he continued.

"Did he tell you about the six months he spent looking for me in Edonia? When I lost my very identity, every memory I had, through PTA? Six months he spent searching, never giving up, ignoring all Command’s attempts to bring him in. He even set up his own network of agents. And when he did eventually find me, a down and out drunken bum, he didn't give up, or lose faith in me. He pulled me from the edge of the abyss. Someone who to me at that precise moment was a total stranger. How? By sheer force of his belief in me, that I represented that cause he was looking for. It was humbling General, that someone thought I was so worthy, that I could make a difference to the world. That's when I began to realise that Piers had feelings for me, perhaps even love. But it was a pure love, not something physical. And once again, freely given, and stupidly on my part, not reciprocated.

"I....I never knew....he never said."

"And you didn't ask." Chris could see the General was uncertain now, unsure of his next move. He picked up the beaker. "Here, have some more water.....let me help you."

"You talk of love Captain. How can that possibly exist, between two men?"

"This is not some soldier's ass-fuck up against the wall with a rookie, frustrated at the lack of a convenient whore. This is real love, pure, true, lasting. Yes, it's physical, even rough sometimes. A manifestation of our masculinity. But it's also sweet and tender, always willingly given, never taken for granted and if you can't appreciate that, then you're already dead on the inside General. If I sicken you, let me assure you, the feeling is mutual." Chris paused to let his words sink in.

"Go on, I'm still listening Captain."

"And so we come to China, the Lanshiang incident." Chris stopped and laughed ironically. "Incident....that doesn't really do it justice General.....it was..." Chris struggled to find the right words. "It was a piece of hell on earth. And had it not been for your son, that piece would have grown and consumed the planet. I ignored his advice and pursued a personal vendetta in that benighted place, and he just sucked up my callousness and my reprimands and stuck by me. In the finest military tradition. Even though he thought I was wrong, and God help me I was. But he never disobeyed a command, and continued to protect my six. And at the end, he carried out the most selfless act of sacrifice I've ever witnessed a soldier make. And why? Because he thought it worthwhile, because he believed I would continue the fight when he had failed. He didn't just save me that day General, he saved the world. Did you know that? Did you!"

"No, no I didn't. I knew my son became infected, but much of what transpired at Lanshiang remains highly classified."

"Well, God must have been in his heaven that day. When I held your son's bloodstained badge in my hand, slowly trying to comprehend the enormity of what had just happened. When I was trying so hard not to break down myself, because Piers wouldn't have wanted me to. When I sat alone in the escape pod, thinking I'd lost him, and only then realising that I loved him as he loved me. That's when God decided to intervene. He restored Piers to us, to you, to me. He gave us both another chance General, to hold and to cherish this wonderful, beautiful young man. I am so proud to be his partner, and you should be proud to be his father."

The General was silent, Chris thought he could see tears in the man's eyes, but he couldn't be sure. He stood up.

"Cards on the table General? I've played my hand now. It's your call."

The general turned and looked up at Chris, a tear trickled down his pale cheek.

"Captain Redfield. Stay....will you? Please? Tell me more about my son, why is he using a walking stick? Why?....Oh, so many questions. I, I don't know him, not like a father should."

Chris sat down again, and put a large hand on the General's smaller one. He smiled kindly. "I would consider it an honour Sir."

************************

"What did you say to Pa babe? He was like a different person when I got back with Mom. There was colour in his cheeks, a sparkle in his eye. What happened whilst I was gone?"

"Nothing much, Ace, some idle chit chat. Perhaps that what happens when you have a near-death experience. You begin to appreciate all the things you might lose. You should know kiddo....Ha!" Chris punched Piers on the arm.

"Yeah...no! Like I believe you and my father just chewed the fat and shot the breeze for over two hours. Come on, tell me!" Piers tried to sit astride him, but Chris wrestled him onto his back, laughing as he did so.

"Hey, who's your Daddy, Mr Director?"

Piers wriggled in vain. "You are Dadfield, my disobedient servant. In fact, thanks to you, I've now got two Dads again."

"Then I guess you're spoilt."

Piers suddenly remembered that Chris was an orphan. "Oh Chris, I'm sorry babe, I didn't mean....shit...I wasn't thinking."

Chris lent down and kissed him. "Shh, I'm OK. Dealing with you Nivans's makes a man thick-skinned. And besides, you're worth it, the spoiling that is."

"I am?" the hazel eyes danced and the full lips parted slightly.

"Was that a 'Woof' Director?" Piers nodded mischievously. "Then Grrr.....But don't tell your father, he thinks our love is pure. Ha, Ha, Ha!"

************************

It was about 1 am, Sunday 18th June, 2017. Mrs Nivans had left her husband's bedside over an hour ago, but the General could hear voices in the corridor outside. He opened his eyes to see a young man entering the room; walking with an easy grace and light steps. The General tried to focus in the semi-darkness. "Piers? Is that you son?"

The handsome young man smiled. "No Sir, it's Adam. Happy Father's Day...."

**Author's Note:**

> The characters of the Nivans siblings are taken from the writing of Theosymphany whilst Scott and Martha are the creations of RedfieldandNivans.....my thanks as ever guys. All their characterisations here are my own. Please comment, it’s always nice to know what you the reader thinks. :) nimrod.


End file.
